


and now's the time, the time is now

by choccochipcock



Series: Zeppelin Fluff [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Best Friends, Bobby Singer Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, Castiel and Dean Winchester are Dorks, Dean Winchester Loves Castiel, Established Gabriel/Sam Winchester, Family Fluff, Fluff, Human Castiel (Supernatural), Kid Fic, M/M, Minor Charlie Bradbury/Gilda, Parent Castiel (Supernatural), Parent Dean Winchester, Past Character Death, Past Relationship(s), Uncle Gabriel (Supernatural), Uncle Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:00:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24560443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/choccochipcock/pseuds/choccochipcock
Summary: Dean's daughter is four-years-old. How he got here, raising her along with Cas, and falling deeper and deeper in love with his bestfriend everyday, is impossible to explain, but he's not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Gabriel/Sam Winchester
Series: Zeppelin Fluff [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2106726
Comments: 7
Kudos: 64





	and now's the time, the time is now

**Author's Note:**

> ahaha not me back here re-writing/editing this because I ruined the relationship I have with my bestfriend/the love of my life
> 
> (seriously what the hell is up with my coping mechanisms as of late?)

When Dean is sure Chevy is asleep, he slips outside onto the porch in search of Cas with two cold beers in his hand, the chirp of crickets from the grass in the front yard in need of a mow and the warm air, moist enough to seem like a second skin, causing him to shiver slightly, goosebumps rising on the skin of his arms, still cold from the A/C inside.

Cas is sitting on the steps like he usually is every night, while Dean is putting his daughter to sleep, tapping the end of a broken flip top lighter against the porch step beside his bent knee, lost in thought and covered in shadows as thick as a blanket. The only light out here is fireflies, and the moon hidden by thick clouds high above.  
Dean's daughter, Chevy, is four-years-old. How he got here, raising her along with Cas, and falling deeper and deeper in love with his best friend every day, is impossible to explain, but he's not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Especially right now, when Cas's shoulders look so good wreathed in shadows, and Dean can feel his small smile in the air like the wind.

"Heya, Cas." Dean says quietly, sitting down beside him and stretching out his legs, offering him the second beer with the neck clasped between his fingers and his palm, just so Cas's hand brushes his when his eyes snap up to Dean's and he reaches out instinctively to take the offered drink. It's not something Dean is exactly proud to admit, but more often than not, that's how he hands Cas drinks, just to feel the rough calloused slide of Cas's palm against his fingers.

Cas pops the top off of his beer as Dean does, after flipping closed the lighter and shoving it into his pocket, taking a small sip, eyes still distant as he carefully draws himself out of whatever fly-trap of a thought process his brain had caught him in. "Hello, Dean," Cas replies, voice a dark, low rumble. "Did she go down easily enough?"  
It's a joke, a throwback to the memory of the first time Dean let Cas put Chevy to sleep by himself. Five glasses of water, one bathroom break, and two Dr. Seuss books later, Cas had walked down the stairs with the grimace of a man who'd suddenly just earned a new perspective on life. Dean had handed him a beer, lips twitching in the corners, with the words "Did she go down easily enough?" falling from his lips marinated in sarcasm.

Dean snorts without taking the bait, tipping a mouthful of beer into his mouth. They sit in silence for a moment, Dean watching Cas wander back into the sticky trap of his thoughts in the shadows, Cas's eyes nearly glazed over. Probably. Not that Dean can see much. He's taking an educated guess. Cas always thinks too much, and he always makes the same face when he's thinking too much.

And then he breaks the damn silence with "Thank you, Dean." of all the god damned things.

"For what?" Dean grins, half-confused, and cocks an eyebrow at his best friend, swallowing another sip of beer as Cas turns toward him in the darkness. There's something heavier than normal to his stare -- it's been like this all fucking week. Cas staring with this look on his face that Dean doesn't like because he doesn't know which one it is. He's known Cas since they were young enough that they thought shoving dirt into each others' pants on the playground was an excellent idea, and he knows all of Cas's looks -- every damn one of them but this one. And that thought is kind of scary.

"I've been thinking, Dean. " Well, that never goes wrong (the guinea pig incident being the first thing to come to mind following after those words). "About us. About everything. And I realized I never once thanked you."

Dean stops breathing.

"You gave me a home, even when you were caring for an infant whose mother had just died, a new father without a clue of what you were doing, without a second thought. Not to mention the countless other times you have helped me. And I -- I am sincerely grateful."

Dean forces himself to breathe, opening his mouth in an effort to kickstart his brain. Cas had come to live with him after Dean got the news that an old hook-up had died (he'd been confused, at first, it was just a car accident, and he had barely even known her first name), leaving behind her six-month-old baby. A baby Dean had never gotten wind of until then, but had turned out to be unmistakably his. Cas had just lost his job working under his brothers in his father's poor excuse for a company, and he'd been just as lost and terrified as Dean had been. The decision to ask Cas to live with him had been almost entirely selfish, in Dean's brain.

It takes two attempts at words, and a false start, before his brain arranges the words correctly enough that his mouth actually spits them out.

"Cas — Cas, buddy, you're family. Hell, I'm surprised we didn't end up living with each other from the start. I wasn't doing you a favor, buddy. It was a selfish attempt at seeing if I could have your apple pie every day of the week." He tries to lighten the moment and gets a small smile and a head tilt for his troubles, but he can see in Cas's eyes that this conversation is going to be about as easy to get rid of as head lice.

(Cas makes a mean apple pie -- it's the only thing he can cook without burning into a fucking brick.)

"Dean." He says Dean's name so softly it aches in the air. He's always been able to make that one fucking word sound like a prayer. Dean sighs, relenting, and sets his beer bottle down beside Cas's -- when had he put it down? -- in the small space between them, full attention on the shitfest of feelings coming up.

"Cas." He never said he was going to make this easy on him, though.

Cas shakes his head, but it's fond, and he gives Dean a look that steals everything -- his breath, his thoughts, his fucking ability to move. He freezes.  
"I love you, Dean. I am incredibly thankful that you are my friend."

And then he leans forward, and fuck. They're kissing. Dean's body catches on long before his brain, which comes online around the same time Cas bites his bottom lip.  
Holy fucking shitbricks. Sammy is never going to let him live this down. Cas made the first move.  
_

They don't talk about the kiss. They don't talk about how when they pulled apart for air, Dean had nearly tackled him, whispering "I love you too, you sappy bastard." and other variations of that into all of the skin Cas allowed him to kiss before he pulled him back up. They don't talk about how they both cried, just a little.

Everything goes as it usually does. Chevy wakes Dean up at six on the dot, begging for waffles, which he shakes his head at but makes anyways because somehow both his best friend and his daughter have the same love of waffles smeared with peanut butter -- Dean doesn't know if that's a coincidence or not -- and even though the smell of peanut butter is the nastiest shit in existence (almost nastier than Sam after a gas station burrito), the smile Cas gives when he finds the plate Dean left for him always makes up for it.

It's around ten that the smell of coffee lures Cas out of bed. Chevy greets him at the bottom of the stairs and monkey climbs into his arms like always, babbling about the drawing she made at the coffee table with crayons and scrap paper. Cas smiles and listens as seriously as he can while caffeine-deprived, humming along and adjusting her on his hip as he pours himself a cup of coffee far out of her reach. It's Cas's morning routine; Chevy, coffee, food, and then more coffee. He fixes the cup with a little bit of cream (Dean knows how he likes it), and carries Chevy into the living room, where Dean is sprawled across the couch in front of Friday morning cartoons, looking at the drawing Chevy made of Baby as a goat -- or maybe a llama?

Cas sets her carefully down between the coffee table and the couch, but instead of inhaling his coffee as always, before his ass even touches the cushions, he sets it aside and greets Dean with a hand tilting his chin up into a kiss. Chevy interrupts it with the most god awful screeching noise, and Dean and Cas both jerk apart to look at her with concern.  
"Daddy, are you dating 'as? Why didn't you tell me?" She looks between them with wide eyes and launches herself at Dean, who catches both her and her pointy ass knees to the stomach.

"Daddy, daddy, daddy, does this mean 'as can finally be my other daddy? Does it? Does it?!" Cas goes to lean back, but Chevy catches onto the lapel of his housecoat with a grip God couldn't break, so much excitement filling her tiny little body that Dean thinks she might be vibrating.

"T-That's up to Cas, darlin'." Dean chokes out because Chevy's hand on the collar of his shirt paired with her puppy dog eyes is choking him. She turns on Cas -- eyes as wide as a damn saucer and full of pure terror -- who nods before she can open her mouth. Another god awful screeching noise, and then she's launching herself at Cas, shouting something that might be "I love you" but could just as easily be "Thank you." and Dean could be crying, or he could be laughing. Both are more than likely.  
_

Chevy Mary Ellen Winchester is four-years-old. She's got bright blond hair, dark green eyes, and a pout that could crack concrete with its force.

She's perfected the mixture of Dean's, Sam's, and Cas's bitchface -- Dean thinks she might've practiced it. With her arms crossed over her chest, and her eyes narrowed, it's hard to believe she's throwing a fit because Cas won't let her wear her cowboy boots with neon green shorts. She looks like she's ready to commit arson with nothing but her eyes. It's kind of adorable.

Cas sighs again at the dirty knives being driven into his back as he picks Chevy out a different pair of shoes and a shirt to match her shorts. Dean is sitting on the bed, watching the show, glad for once that it isn't him playing the bad guy. Cas had beat him to it when Chevy had excitedly thumped down the stairs looking like she'd dressed in the dark.  
"Here. Would you go change into this?" Cas holds up a black shirt with green sequins on the front, and a pair of black tennis shoes, turning away from the closet to show Chevy, who turns her head and glares at the door in one sharp snap. Dean tries to turn his laugh into a cough and gets tag-teamed by two sets of narrow-eyed glares. Cas sighs again.

"Chevy, I asked you a question."

She turns her back to him, whining. Cas cocks his head and raises one eyebrow.

"Chevy Mary Ellen, take this shirt and these shoes and go change. Right now. If not, we can stay home? Whatever you prefer. You'd better make your decision before we're late." He keeps his voice even, calm, but the raised eyebrow never drops. (Bossy Cas is kind of hot -- and um, wow, the ceiling has some nice glow-in-the-dark stars on it. Cas put 'em up, and Dean thinks they might make the patterns of real constellations.)

"Fine." Chevy stomps over, swipes the shoes and then the shirt, and stomps across the hall and into the bathroom. Her tantrum will be forgotten by the time they make it to the car, overtaken by the excitement of getting to tell her uncle Sam about how Cas is now her other dad. Dean's not quite sure exactly how much shit Sam and Gabe are gonna give them, but he's sure his daughter is going to be roped into it.

Cas sighs, and steps over until Dean can reel him in, settling his arms around his hips without an ounce of bashfulness. Cas is his. He has no fucking doubt about that. And it's worth the little bundle of nerves making his palms feel hot for the smile he gets, Cas's hand carding through his hair. All-day there had been smiles and touches and stolen kisses until Sam had made his usual two o'clock call and, feeling something was up, suggested lunch.

Then Chevy had been so excited she'd earned herself six bruises on her shins and knees -- three from falling off of the couch, one from running into the coffee table, and two from slipping in the hallway and falling on her knees. All of the way up the stairs she'd been shouting down to Dean about how her Uncle Sam was going to freak when he found out she had another daddy.

Chevy interrupts the kiss Cas tilts Dean's chin up for, stomping back into the room with less attitude than before. "Daddy? Will you brush my hair?" She frowns even as she asks incredibly politely, staring up at Cas who doesn't step away from Dean but straightens to his full height.

"Me?"

Chevy snorts. "Yes. Please?"

Dean laughs and pushes Cas lightly toward the dresser where the brush sits, watching Cas hesitantly turn Chevy around by the shoulder and begin to brush out her long hair, braiding it as it's usually done. She says thank you, and pauses, hugging Cas's knee quickly before fleeing the room before Dean can ask her where her other shirt went.  
He smiles at the look on Cas's face and stands up to pull him out of the room, tossing the brush onto the bed and flipping off the light. "C'mon. We're gonna be late."  
_

Gabriel and Sam have stolen his daughter. They've turned her into a filthy traitor, who blows raspberries every time Cas and Dean so much as look at each other and sits contentedly between Sam and Gabe on their side of the booth eating a salad. A fucking salad. What the fuck did they do to his kid when he was in the bathroom?

Gabe is content to let a child do his work, egging her on with his secret stash of candy he’s stayed in every pocket on his person until even Sam's eyes widen at the monster they've made. Chevy's sugar high peaks with her wiggling down and out of the booth, running as fast as she can through the diner toward the door. Dean just barely manages to catch her before she escapes, and the loud squeal of delight she gives at being scooped up makes him wince.

Cas's Look what you did, dumbass glare is being rightfully directed at Gabe, instead of Dean for once, and Dean takes a brief moment to celebrate before Chevy starts talking about the imaginary monster beneath her bed that should definitely marry her dads and can Uncle Sam and Uncle Gabe come too, pretty please?

Sam chokes on the ice-cube he'd been crunching on, and Cas burying his face in his hands doesn't hide the pink color his ears turn. Gabe gives a downright evil grin and laughs.

"Sure we'll be there, kiddo. Gotta have somebody to watch you while these two consummate their marriage, amiright?" He smacks Sam's back, causing him to spit out the ice-cube, and Cas squawks.

Dean has to deal with Chevy asking him what consummate means as they pay the check, and Sam and Gabe are not fucking quiet at all as they laugh their asses off the entire time.  
_

Two days pass, and Chevy never learns what consummate means, even though she never stops trying. Cas and Dean are pushing the cart along the cereal aisle when Cas finds a box of healthy cardboard-flavored shit, setting Chevy down to swipe it off of the shelf. This kickstarts the same argument they've been having since before Dean can remember -- at least Sam isn't here to help tag-team him.

It's not until they've compromised, a box of both of their cereals going into the cart, that they realize Chevy is gone. After that brief, intense moment of panic, it's fuck the cereal, where the hell is their kid?

Dean goes one way, nearly shouting, and Cas the other. Rounding the bend of the last aisle, he smacks right into a bright-looking mom, toting two kids behind her, and Chevy is holding her hand, crying fearfully.

"CAS! CAS GET OVER HERE!" Dean shouts over his shoulder, and a blur of black and neon bounces off of his legs. He scoops Chevy up and squeezes her tight as she sobs. Cas comes jogging from the end of the aisle and immediately steals her, hugging her tight as she clings to him, muttering something low in her ear with tears in his eyes.

It's the first time they've ever lost her in a public space, and if Dean's heart wasn't pounding right now, he's sure he'd be able to hear his ears ringing as the panic fades.

"M'so sorry, daddy. I'm so sorry." Chevy is still crying, but she reaches for Dean when he drops his forehead on Cas's shoulder to compose himself, and he grabs his daughter's hand and squeezes gently. Cas thanks the lady profusely, pressing kisses to Chevy's forehead between words. Dean can hear how close to tears he is and tries not to think about all of the bad shit running through his head when he hadn't been able to find his daughter.

"It's no worry. Honestly, she was prepared to find you if she had to drag me through the whole store. Toddlers are sneaky, but I don't think she meant to wonder so far." The lady grins, and her children, hiding half behind her, laugh.

Dean straightens, breathing out shakily, and Cas passes Chevy to him wordlessly. She buries her face in his neck and sniffles, little arms wrapping around him tight. "Still, though, thank you. I'm Dean, this is Cas, and our daughter, Chevy." He lifts her slightly, smiling weakly.

The lady grins. "That's a wonderful name. I'm Sarah, this is Malachi and Ty. They're a bit shy. And really, it's no problem. I'm glad we found you quick, though. Make sure to keep a better eye on her. Again, toddlers are sneaky."

Dean nods, shifting Chevy's weight to one arm to reach for Cas's hand. "Don't we know it."

After Cas thanks her one more time, they walk back to the cart, cutting the shopping trip in half. Cas pays, and carries the groceries to the Impala. He even drives, Dean tossing him the keys without a thought to slide into the passenger seat and hold Chevy all of the way home. She falls asleep against his chest, and he slides across the seat to lay his head on Cas's shoulder, shuddering slightly and feeling incredibly grateful that Sarah had found Chevy before someone less pleasant did.  
_

Dean's just barely falling asleep when his door creaks open, shutting softly, and feet pad, with the slap of skin on wood, over to the bed. Cas slips in behind him, tucking himself up against Dean's back wordlessly, his breath hot on the back of Dean's neck, body sleep-warm. Chevy turns over, pushing herself away from Dean slightly with a sleepy grunt, and he smiles, tugging Cas's arm around him, hugging it against his chest.

He'd been waiting for Cas to come to bed for ages, and his eyes slip closed without permission, his body settling into the warmth of his daughter and his best friend.  
_

"Wakey wakey eggs and bakey!"

Dean and Cas startle awake at the same time. Dean's elbow lands solidly against Cas's abdomen, but he barely even cares because it's Charlie standing at the foot of their bed with a camera, and Chevy is gone from the bed, probably having been the one to let her in. She knows better than that, but there's nothing to say that Charlie didn't bribe her with something.

"Mornin', dudes." She grins, wiggling her eyebrows at them. Cas's face is a mixture of shock and helpless sleepiness  
.  
Dean collapses backward with a groan, burrowing down against Cas's hip, into the smell of detergent and rosemary. "Fugg you. What time is it, even?" He asks, voice muffled.  
"Eight-thirty, give or take. Chevy let me in, and I brought donuts."

Bingo. So, Chevy can be bribed with donuts. Good to know.

"Good morning, Charlie. But's far too early to be dealing with you." Cas says groggily, voice dropped somewhere in the deepest pits of Tartarus, and he lays back, using Dean's pillow to cover his face. The bed dips as their little monster clambers over Dean, wiggling between him and Cas's leg, and lays her head on Cas's thigh, nose brushing Dean's chin. Her hands are sticky against Dean's bare shoulder, and her giggling is shaking the bed. She wiggles her way beneath the blankets and digs her cold toes into Dean's stomach.

"Dude. Guys. Not only did I have to learn that y'all sealed the deal from Gabriel, but y'all forgot too?" The pout in Charlie's voice is audible.

"Forget wha'?" Dean asks, muffled. He wants to go back to sleep and that nice dream he was having about a cheeseburger made entirely out of bacon. If only Chevy would stop fucking squirming -- and ow, her toenails are sharp.

Charlie smacks him, hard, on the leg, and leans over to yank the pillow away from Cas. "You guys are supposed to come clothes shopping with me! I have to pick out something nice for dinner with Gilda's parents."

"Oh, yeah. That." Shit. Dean's hope of returning to the dream is squashed like a roach beneath one of Sammy's giant shoes. He wraps his arm around Chevy and Cas's legs, pressing his nose into the bare skin above the waistband of Cas's boxers, and listens to Cas sigh again.

"Five more minutes."

Cas's hand finds Dean's hair with the complaint, and Dean laughs.

Charlie makes a noise that can only mean trouble. "Aw, you guys are so freaking cute." The camera clicks again. Chevy lets out an evil giggle and pokes Dean's cheek.

Dean raises his head to glare, and the camera clicks again. He resists the urge to stick out his tongue and hides his face again. Everyone he knows is going to have a copy of that picture by tomorrow, he can already fucking tell. The glee of revenge is audible in her voice.

"I and Sam bet it would take a lot longer than what it took you guys. I lost a bet to Bobby, Bobby, of all people, and now Jo laughs every time I stop by the Roadhouse for breakfast.  
Dean buries his face above his daughter's head and hopes for the bed to swallow him whole.

"It's been five days." He squeaks. Charlie laughs, like he's some foolish stable boy and she's a witch who just suckered him out of his soul for a couple of apples.  
"We've been waiting for this for like eleven years, dude."

Dean lets out another noise. Sam can't fit into the trunk of the Impala, but Charlie and Gabriel could if they snapped a few limbs. He'd have to find a babysitter in order to have time to get rid of the bodies, and talk Cas into it, but they could roll Gigantor into a tarp and fold him into the back seat with a little bit of effort Dean is willing to put in.  
Cas clears his throat, fingers finding Dean's hair again and combing soothingly.

"Kill me now," he whispers. Charlie flees the room cackling, and Chevy wiggles out to follow her.

"No, love. I believe we have shopping to do, first." Cas replies.  
_

They stop to drop Chevy off at Sam and Gabriel's apartment, where Gabriel's miniature Australian Shepherd, Loki, distracts Chevy enough that they can slip out, unnoticed, from the back.

Charlie drives, Dean crammed into the backseat of her tiny purple Nissan, where legroom doesn't exist and Dean is sitting on a plastic sword. His ass goes numb by the time they reach the mall.

Of course, Cas gets to ride shotgun.

Gilda, Charlie's girlfriend of three months, is a small, petite brunette Dean vaguely remembers that Charlie met LARPing. Her parents aren't really excepting people. Charlie is trying to win them over with dinner and her winning personality. As long as she manages to keep her mouth shut, Dean thinks she'll do just fine.

Charlie goes through seven different outfits before they settle on a white, long sundress, patterned in blue and purple flowers, modeling for Dean and Cas -- who sit together on a small chair outside of the dressing rooms and give her their opinions via a thumb up or down -- or, in Cas's case, a squint too. She gets some kind of strappy brown sandals to go with it, and Dean buys Cas a World's Best Dad cup for shits and giggles on the way out, earning himself a bitchface better than Sammy's.  
_

Chevy isn't happy when they pick her up, leaving Charlie in the car as they take the stairs up to Sam and Gabe's apartment.

Apparently, Dean and Cas are no longer allowed to leave her sight, if the way she grips them both tightly by the thumb and glares up at them as they walk her to Charlie's car, distrustful even when Dean buckles her into her booster seat -- even less room for him now, delightfully.

Cas has to break the grip with a sharp tug to be allowed to climb into the front seat, and Chevy keeps up the glaring until Dean bribes her with waffles for dinner, nine hours later.  
_

Dean wakes up warm. Cas has one arm tossed over his side, the other beneath his head. They're close, and beneath the blankets, the perfect fucking temperature. Dean wakes him up with a kiss on the tip of his nose, getting a bright, gummy grin and full kiss that makes his stomach swoop.

Of course, he's the one their daughter launches herself at, getting a knee to the kidney. Chevy begs for more waffles, and pretends to gag when Cas continues kissing Dean, making it lighter and sweeter until he pulls back to place a kiss on his forehead.

"Good morning," he says softly. Dean smiles. Not even getting swatted by Chevy can bring him down, even when she wipes her licked palm down his face as payback for being ignored, and flees the room like a bat out of hell.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm a sucker for comments, so if you don't feel bothered, leave me something positive, please?


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